Believe Us
by StrongerThanThat
Summary: It's the year 2050; the apocalypse has been averted and everyone has their happy endings. Seventeen year old Alexander and Allen Winchester were hunting a witch when they got sucked into a vortex. The next thing they know, they're back in the past, watching their Dad and dead Uncle walk across the parking lot. Will they make it home without screwing up the past? Destiel. Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

"Move out of the way, Al!" Alex yelled, gun in hand.

Instantly, his brother shot him an annoyed look. "I would if I could, you jerk! Did it occur to you that I'm not in this death grip by choice?" Al forced out, struggling in the overweight witch's grasp.

"You can't stop me! I will undo the wrongs of the past and our master, Lucifer, shall be free!" the old witch declared, cackling evilly. The obese woman pinned Al down with her flabby arms, causing him to flail underneath her humongous body. The older twin viewed the scene with burgeoning nausea. Ew.

Suddenly, in an outburst of strength, the blond teen flipped them over. "Now, Alex!" Al screamed, scrambling off the insane woman.

The older twin quickly fired a shot, the bullet piercing through the hideous witch's skull. Her blood spattered on Al's clothes, soaking them red. The blue eyed youth frowned, but did not appear disgusted. His brother whistled.

"Man, that is going to be a bitch to clean up later!" Alex remarked. A stray piece of paper smacked into the red haired teenager's face, reminding them of the ritual still in progress. Strong wind stirred up objects in the witch's house, and the floorboards began to shake. The seventeen year old boys rushed to the mahogany dining table, where a sigil had been carved into the wood. The seal had been doused in blood, and weird items, including human bones and ancient herbs, had been placed in the centre.

"How the hell are we gonna stop this?" Alex asked over the deafening sound of the swirling winds. A loud bang signified the falling of a bookshelf.

"I have no idea! We could smash the table maybe?" Al offered, ducking to avoid a flying vase. Alex nodded and in one kick, divided the wooden piece of furniture into half. Immediately, a black hole began forming in front of them. It got bigger and bigger, sucking in anything in sight.

"Shit! Okay, bad move! Bad move!" Alex swore loudly, backing a few steps. "I think we should call Father!" The vortex was already the size of an entire wall. The twins could feel it tugging them towards it.

"Okay- Uh whoa!" Al cried as he was dragged into the opening. "Alex!"

"Hang on!" the older twin demanded, catching a hold of his younger brother's arm. Alex started to pull Al back, but staggered forward when the intensity of the pulling force increased. "Damn it, Al!" The blue eyed teenager cursed when he felt his brother slipping away.

"No!" The twins shouted in unison as they fell into the gap.

Boy, were they in for one hell of an adventure.

* * *

Somewhere in between getting tossed around in the black hole, both of them were knocked unconscious. It was several hours before Al woke up in an unknown place.

"Hey, boy, you alright?" Someone was slapping his face. Al moaned, swatting the hand away.

"Go away, Alex! I am not a morning person like you and Dad!" Al mumbled, shifting to bury himself in his pillow. "Ouch!" the blond teen exclaimed when his face rubbed against a rough surface. "What the heck?" Al shot up and found himself staring at asphalt. He turned to look at the middle aged man who woke him up. "W-Where am I?" the adolescent inquired, slightly dazed. He glanced around, and saw his brother lying a few feet away. He let out a sigh of relief.

The brown haired man laughed. "Must be some hangover, huh? Are you and your brother even legal yet? We're right outside the bar, in the parking lot," the man clarified, helping Al to his feet.

"Uh thanks. And what state is this exactly?" Al asked, clutching his pounding head. The tall man gave him an incredulous look.

"How much did you drink last night, kid? You're in Utah," the grey eyed man said.

"Oh. Yeah, I think we emptied the pub!" Al said nervously, playing along. "I appreciate the help, but I think I can handle it from here." His head was spinning from the information. They were in Utah? But they were just in Kansas!

"If you're sure. Head home, okay? Your parents must be worried. It's one in the morning," the man stated in a rather stern tone. Al briefly wondered if the older man was a father.

"Yes. Of course sir," Al agreed politely, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. The man grinned, shaking his head in amusement as he walked away. As soon as the man's figure disappeared, Al dashed to his brother's side. "Hey, Alex. Alex! Wake up!" No response. "Dad's teaching us how to fix the Impala!" The red haired youth's eyes shot open wide.

"Uh what?" Alex asked incoherently.

"Alex! We're in Utah!" Al announced, freaking out. He forcefully hauled Alex to his feet.

"Huh, how?" The older twin blinked, rubbing his eyes. "Oh that," Alex mumbled, recalling the swirling vortex. "Chill, Al. We'll just fly home. It's no big deal." Al looked alarmed.

"But father said-"

"No flying unless you're under Uncle Gabriel, Uncle Balthazar or my supervision," Alex mocked in a low, gravel voice. Al shuddered. It was eerily similar to their Father's. "Sheesh, what are we five? Neither of us has fallen mid-flight in years!" Alex argued.

"But-"

"Quit it, Al! Seriously, do you feel like spending the night in some sleazy motel?" Alex snapped, irritated. He was staring pointedly at the dingy motel nearby.

"Alex-"

The older teen silenced him with a glare. "I dare you to say-"

"Alex! Listen to me!" Al interjected impatiently. "Look, it's the Impala!" The blond youth gestured behind him. Alex scoffed.

"If you think I'm falling for that again..." Alex said, following his brother's glaze. "What the fuck?" Alex vociferated, causing Al to look disapprovingly at him. It really was Dad's car. The red haired teen would recognize it anywhere.

They watched as two familiar men stepped outside the Impala they just parked.

"Is that Dad and Uncle Sammy?" Alex spluttered. It couldn't be. Uncle Sammy lived in heaven with Aunt Jess. He turned to see the growing horror on Al's face.

"I-I think I know what's going on," Al said in a small voice. Neither of them could tear their eyes away from their Dad and Uncle. They looked so young, but there were shadows in their eyes that the twins had never seen before. "I think we're in the past."

His older twin was silent for a moment before realisation dawned on him. Alex ducked under a glossy, black mustang, hands covering his head. Al quickly followed his lead.

"Good idea! We shouldn't let them see us. Who knows what we could do to alter the space-time continuum?" Al said, slightly impressed. Alex looked at him, confused.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The blue eyed youth asked. He peeked over the hood, and jumped when he saw his Dad and Uncle staring in their direction. Alex turned to his twin, hyperventilating. "Shit! You think Dad would remember if he sees me with red hair? If he tells Father I dyed it, I'll be grounded for months!"

Al promptly smacked his own face.

* * *

Cassie: Well, before you say anything, I do know this is overdone. I just couldn't resist. I apologise for any inconsistencies.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

Half an hour later, the Winchester twins had checked into that motel Alex had pointed out earlier. Heavy silence settled in the small room as the gravity of the situation finally sank into the elder's head.

"2009," Alex stated impassively. "We're in 2009." They were forty-one years into the past. In Utah. "Al, if we screw this up, we might cease to exist," the teen continued, lying on his bed. The older twin stared blankly at the white, paint-chipping ceiling above him, thinking about his family and friends. He might never see them again. The resulting pain at that revelation stunned him, rendering him motionless.

"I know. I-I don't know what to do. We can't time travel. Father said it might kill us to even try," Al muttered from his own bed. The younger was glazing out the motel window, focusing on the beautiful Impala parked outside. It seemed like their Dad and Uncle had been staying here as well.

"Times like this I wish we weren't just half-angels. This sucks!" Alex exclaimed, face twisting in anger.

Al shut his eyes, attempting to curb his fear. He forced himself to think of possible solutions to their dilemma. "We could get help. Maybe from Uncle Gabriel or Uncle Balthazar?" Al suggested, knowing fully how big of a risk that was.

"I don't think it'll work. I remember Dad told us that they all hated each other in the beginning," Alex refuted, before adopting a bitter smile. "You know, I love it when Uncle Gabriel recounts that story where he epically killed Dad in a hundred different ways. But now, it's just not funny anymore," the older sibling said. "Can you imagine Uncle Gabriel smiting Dad's ass?"

The blond teen recoiled. It killed him to even think about it. Besides the occasional arguments, the Winchesters, complete with angel uncles and dead relatives, were a really tight bunch.

Their family spent every Tuesday night in Uncle Sammy and Aunt Jess's piece of heaven. Sometimes, if they were lucky, Grandpa John and Grandma Mary would stop by for dinner. It was fun, and the twins always found Grandpa John's need to threaten their Father, albeit fondly, entertaining. Because honestly, Father's the one wrapped around their Dad's not-so-tiny finger.

Their angel uncles, on the other hand, would drop in on them three times a week, showering them with truckloads of candy, courtesy of Uncle Gabriel, and other cool stuff, usually from Uncle Balthazar. Occasionally, their two uncles would pull a prank on their parents, something that was always hilarious to watch as long as they weren't the ones on the receiving end.

And on the last day of each month, all of them would gather at the roadhouse situated in the Harvelle's side of heaven, and Uncle Bobby would regale them with stories of their Dad and Uncle's youth while his wife made them delicious pies. Aunt Ellen and Jo, 'not an aunt,' the forever young woman insisted, would be chatting with Grandma Mary and Aunt Jess in the designated women's corner. Dad, Uncle Sammy and Grandpa John would be hoarding the pool table while Father, Uncle Ash, Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Balthazar discussed the management of heaven. Or more like attempt to. Most of the time Uncle Ash and Uncle Gabriel would fool around, and Uncle Balthazar would wander off to flirt with other customers.

Yes, the family was big and chaotic at times, but they still managed to make it work.

Al tightened his fists. They had to get home. The mere thought of being stuck here, back in a time where the most precious people in his life were still gunning against each other, sickened him.

"No. Don't even say that, Alex," Al replied, wincing. He saw his older brother flinch as well. There was a fleeting moment of silence before Alex threw an arm over his closed eyes, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Whatever, Al. I'm going to sleep. It's late and I-I can't deal with this right now. We'll talk more in the morning, alright?" the crimson haired teen murmured, pulling the grimy covers over his body.

Al nodded reluctantly. "Okay. I guess I should get some rest too," the younger twin whispered as he buried himself under his blankets. Both of them dozed off in minutes, mentally exhausted.

In hindsight, it was a good thing they did too, because they weren't going to get much sleep in the next couple of days.

* * *

This time, it was Alex who came to first.

The seventeen year old yawned as he resumed a sitting position on his hard mattress, trying to ignore his aching back. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Alex looked over to his younger brother. Al was still sleeping. Should he wake him up? Staring at Al's peaceful expression, Alex decided not to. He'll be nice and let the kid sleep for another two to three hours. After all, it was only seven, according to the clock on the table.

Climbing out of bed, the red haired youth stretched his limbs before heading to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. When he returned, he instantly reached for the black, leather wallet he had nicked from a snobby, rich businessman last night. Flipping it open, he quickly counted the money they had left. They still had about a hundred after they paid for the motel room. Not much, but enough to buy them breakfast. Without further ado, Alex flew into town.

When he materialized on the pavement, he quickly glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Across the street, there was this one woman, gaping at him disbelievingly. Soon, her companions turned to follow her gaze. At that, the young woman in her twenties flushed bright red, waving her friends off. The group of females giggled. Alex just grinned. Humans. They don't see what they don't want to see.

As he strode to the diner he spotted nearby, the seventeen year old scrutinized his surroundings. Things weren't that different half a century back. Sure, the buildings weren't as tall and the technology wasn't quite as advanced, but from what Alex could see, 2009 wasn't as foreign as he thought it would be. Hell, the people here even dressed similarly. The youth supposed that was due to the hipsters. They were always bringing back trends from this particular decade.

Alex opened the door to the small diner, and was immediately hit with the smell of greasy, fast food. The place was pretty crowded; there were no empty tables at all. He bought breakfast for two of them, burgers for both him and Al. It would tick his younger brother off, although Alex knew that Al secretly loved burgers, just like their Dad-

Well, that effectively dampened his mood. The red haired teenager was so troubled that he accidentally bumped into a chubby, vertically-challenged kid. The blond boy was around ten, and had been avidly devouring a giant bar of chocolate before Alex knocked him over.

"Oh man, sorry kid," Alex apologized, offering a hand to help him up. The boy completely ignored him. No. Alex narrowed his eyes. It was like the child didn't even notice he was there. The blond just remained sitting on the pavement, chomping down on his chocolate messily. Alex retracted his palm. Okay, the brat was weird.

"William! Get up! What has gotten into both of you?" A black haired woman shrieked. She was standing a few feet away, next to a flaxen-haired man with a giant beer gut. The man, presumably the boy's father, was eagerly chugging down a bottle of whiskey. The disheveled mother rushed to her son's side, distraught. She forced him to stand before turning to face Alex.

"Pardon him, h-he's young and-" the young mother stuttered, utterly embarrassed. She threw a glance at her husband, who was entirely engrossed in drinking his alcohol. "I-I think he's ill. Must have gotten it from George. Thanks anyway," the woman said before tugging her son away. Alex watched them leave, a little bewildered by the incident. Shaking away the confusion, the teenager shrugged and ducked into an alley.

Three seconds later, he appeared in the middle of his motel room. Al was missing from his bed. The older twin could hear running water. He spun around, just in time to see Al exit the bathroom, hair wet and towel slung over his shoulder.

"You're back. What did you get me for breakfast?" Al asked, sitting down on a chair. Alex smirked.

"Your favorite, of course." The red haired teen took out his own burger and tossed the brown bag to Al. The younger twin peeked into it, face lighting up.

"I think I love you. I'm been craving this ever since we got here!" Al proclaimed, smiling widely. The blond youth dug out his breakfast, consuming it without a second thought. "You can't believe how hungry I am!"

Alex blinked. That had not been the reaction he was expecting. Where was the tortured expression? Al always had a long inner debate before he lost and wolfed down his burger. The crimson haired adolescent scowled, his fun ruined. He flopped on his bed, sulking. As Alex ate his own burger, a pair of amber eyes drifted into his thoughts. The seventeen year old felt a sudden sense of lost and longing, though he had no idea why. He was never this random and sappy when it came to emotions.

"Hey Alex, I'm going to buy another one. You want more?" Alex just gawped.

* * *

By nightfall, Al had eaten twelve burgers and Alex was seriously starting to doubt his own sanity. Between the younger's burger binge and Alex's out of whack feelings, they hardly got to any talking or planning. The blond twin had just gotten back from acquiring his thirteenth burger when they heard someone scream from two floors down. It wasn't something that a regular human could pinpoint but they weren't exactly humans. Then, there was the sound of glass shattering. The twins exchanged a look.

"Do you think we should check it out?" Alex asked, rather happy for a distraction. Al glanced down at his half-eaten burger in dismay before setting it down on the table reluctantly.

"We should," the younger conceded. "But let's stay invisible first. We might not need to interfere." Alex nodded.

The next thing they knew, they were watching their Uncle Sammy bite down on some filthy demon's throat, shock-addled as her blood stained the floor.

* * *

Cassie: Wow, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited this story last chapter. I honestly didn't expect much attention, considering the amount of similar works out there. I'm pretty certain all of you can guess what episode the twins dropped into.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

Uncle Sammy's past addiction had always been a touchy subject. Al supposed if it had been possible, Dad would have kept it a secret. It was more for Uncle Sammy's benefit than theirs, and Al could see why he didn't want anyone, much less his nephews, knowing about it. Although Uncle Sammy's past addiction to demon blood didn't tarnish Al's image of him, the blond teen understood why his uncle would think it would. The addiction wasn't something to be proud of, that's for sure.

In the end, their Dad had no choice but to tell them. They had been around the age of thirteen, and had recently started training and studying with the other fledgling angels in heaven. In one of those classes, they taught history. It was Alex and Al's favorite class because they mostly read about their family's achievements.

The Winchester gospel, as written by the prophet, Chuck. Or, as the twins knew him, Uncle Chuck. The other angels in training would always look at them in awe, considering their heritage. Their Dad was revered as the righteous man who saved them from the apocalypse, and their Father, the angel who earned God's favor. Even Uncle Sammy had two whole chapters to himself, despite some of the older angels' protest. Al thought it was silly. Uncle Sammy deserved it. Dad couldn't have done it without him.

Exactly two weeks before they started on the Winchester gospel, their parents sat them down and told them the less glorified version of it. It was certainly more interesting than what they would study a fortnight later in a textbook. When Dad had mentioned Uncle Sammy's addiction, it had been brief. Not surprising as Al could tell that it still bothered him. Now the blue eyed teenager could see why.

Uncle Sammy was wild. His heartbeat was erratic and he had demon blood smeared all over his mouth. The demon was still screaming, and Al could smell the metallic tinge of her fresh blood in the surrounding air. For a long period of time, Al and his brother just stood there wide eyed. Then, as if the moment was rehearsed, they realized simultaneously that this wasn't just something they read out of a book; this was something that really happened. Something that was happening now. They had travelled forty-one years into the past, into a time where their parents were still fighting to stop the apocalypse.

The apocalypse. The devil walked the Earth.

Al inhaled deeply before gasping and taking a step back. He could feel fear coiling and slithering at the bottom of his stomach, as if they were snakes. He was actually afraid, very much so, of Uncle Sammy. Uncle Sammy. The same Uncle Sammy that was like a second, oh wait, third father to them. The same Uncle Sammy who took them to baseball games in some random guy's heaven- Warm tears burned in the back of his eyes and Al blinked, feeling them run down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them off with his sleeve.

Trying to rein in his emotions, Al craned his neck to look at his brother. Alex was deathly pale. Blood had drained out of his face, and the teen was biting his lip. Much to his chagrin, his brother had not cried. Of course, he hadn't. Only Al was girly enough to cry at this age. Dad would be ashamed.

Uncle Sammy made quick work with the two demons and within seconds, the tall man was out the door. The twins let go of a breath they didn't know they were holding. As soon as their uncle left, they became visible again.

Neither knew what to say.

It wasn't bad enough that they got tossed back into the past. It wasn't bad enough that they could potentially ruin their chances of being born. No, Dad must have at one point really pissed off fate, because they actually managed to land in the most important year of the millennia. One wrong move and Alex and Al could completely screw up everything their family worked for.

"_I will undo the wrongs of the past and our master, Lucifer, shall be free!" _This was what the witch meant. Alex and Al might just finish the job for her.

They were doomed. An eternity passed before Alex spoke.

"I think I know exactly where we've landed," the red headed teen said after a deep breath. Alex had to be the one who remained stable enough for the both of them.

The older twin walked over to the only table in the bloody motel room. Condensed notes and information regarding their Dad and uncle's case were splayed out over the desk and Alex scanned through some of them quickly. "Look here. We have people drinking and eating themselves to death, infatuated couples committing suicide and ugh... a college girl and her date who devoured each other during sex." Alex's face screwed up in revulsion before resuming. "To top it off, you've consumed like a dozen burgers since we got here. I think we landed right before Father, Dad and Uncle Sammy came up with the plan. They're still dealing with the horsemen."

"T-The horsemen," Al repeated shakily. This was unbelievable; the four horsemen were the stuff of legends. Their Dad and Uncle had used the horsemen's rings to open Lucifer's cage. "If that is so, the one here must be..."

"And then will come Famine, riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of the plenty. And great will be the horseman's hunger for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air," Alex quoted their Father directly from their old textbooks.

"What are we going to do?" Al asked, swallowing slowly. "S-Should we have gone after Uncle Sammy?" The older twin looked at him weirdly.

"Al, I thought we established this long ago. I shouldn't be allowed to make decisions. Last time I did, the succubus we were after kidnapped us and Father had to come save our pathetic, retarded asses," Alex reminded his twin. Al blinked. His fear at their situation diminished as he recalled the case.

"I remember. She tied you to the bed and stripped you down to your boxers. Oh, and she also poured glitter all over your chest. Thankfully, she just knocked me out," Al stated, grinning. "Hey, I heard Uncle Gabriel still had pictures!"

Alex flushed a bright shade of vermilion. "The crazy bitch had a Twilight fetish! And like you said, I was restrained. It wasn't like I could stop her!" The younger twin burst into guffaws. His older brother scowled.

"Thanks, Alex. I needed that," Al admitted after he regained his composure. Alex pretended not to know what the blond was talking about. "Anyway, as much as I don't like letting Uncle Sammy run loose in that state, we should get out of this town as soon as possible. We haven't changed anything so far, and I would like to keep it that way," the flaxen haired youth answered his own question. Alex nodded.

"Okay, but where do we-" Al's eyebrows knitted together as a forgotten fact pushed itself to the front of his mind.

"Wait," the younger sibling demanded. "We can't leave. I forgot that we're both infected by Famine. The virus's contagious." Alex just stared. The thought didn't even occur to him.

"And this is why you're the one who makes the decisions," the older twin said. "Allen Winchester, ladies and gentlemen." Alex applauded. Al shot him a glare.

"I guess we'll just wait it out in our room. We know Dad, Father and Uncle Sammy can handle it." Al broke out in cold sweat. "It's going to be a long wait though. Not surprisingly, I really really want a burger."

* * *

Had this been a movie, Alex and Al would be out there chasing after their uncle. In the process, they would almost certainly meet up with their parents and be subjected to a torturous interrogation. Then, after a long explanation of their arrival, they would join up with their relatives and try to change the future for the better. Maybe this time, Uncle Sammy and Uncle Adam wouldn't have to go into the pit at all.

However, this was reality, and fortunately, Alex and Al had more brains than that. Attempting to change things was just plain stupid. The way they saw it, their future, had been the best possible outcome there was. Lucifer and Michael ended up in the cage and everyone else alive or in heaven. So instead of messing with a situation they knew would sort itself out, the twins lazed around in their motel room.

"Dude, stop eating that," Alex ordered from his bed. Al barely glanced at him, still stuffing himself with his seventeenth burger. At some point, the teen had just started conjuring amateurish burgers from thin air. Unlike a proper archangel, they had to know every intricate detail of the object they were conjuring or else the thing would turn out like crap.

"I'm half angel. It's not like I can die from eating too much. And don't tell me what to do!" Al retorted between bites. Alex rolled his eyes. Even now the kid wouldn't talk with his mouth full.

Alex closed his eyes, collapsing on his mattress. Amber eyes plagued his consciousness and God, he felt like such a girl. He wanted to go home! He missed... Okay, stop. Stop it, Winchester. You're a seventeen year old masculine male, not some lovesick prepubescent chick!

The red haired teen was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice his twin observing him closely from across the room.

"You know what's funny?" Al started, munching happily on his burger. "I would have thought you'll be jacking off non-stop in the shower by now. Where did all this self-control come from?" the blond twin teased. Alex turned red again, cursing their Dad's fair coloring.

Al stared at his brother's flustered expression, blue eyes widening in disbelief. "No, no way. You two got together and you didn't tell me?" Al exclaimed, affronted. Alex gaped, shocked.

"W-Wait, how did you-"

The spluttering teen didn't get to finish.

Someone had knocked down their door with a loud, dramatic thud. A grey haired man in a crisp, black suit stood in the doorway. Slowly, the emotionless look on the man's face contorted into a smirk. It was a demon. One of Famine's demons.

"Well, this certainly wasn't what I was expecting."

* * *

Cassie: I'm glad you guys liked the previous chapter! Someone suggested I get the cupid from this episode to help them but I couldn't manage to insert him in. It was an interesting suggestion though. Once again, a million thanks to those who reviewed, favorited or followed this story. Dean, Sam and Cas would appear next chapter, I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

He was one of the very first souls to experience Hell.

Elijah belonged to the batch of demons that Lilith had tortured personally, back when their numbers were only in the dozens. Needless to say, he was very old. He had been there when demons began their march into the land touched by light; a glorious time when they could bring death upon thousands without the slightest worry of opposition. He had been there when the human race started to retaliate and form resistance.

He had been there before Lucifer was caged.

There were only a handful of them now; those who initiated the infestation of the surface. Actually, he could hardly name any at all. Even Lilith, the very first, had been sacrificed for the Apocalypse. Elijah wouldn't be surprised if every single one of them had fallen.

The demon wasn't particularly powerful, no, but he was intelligent. If he had the proper motivation, he could become as influential as any of the current major players; Crowley was a greenhorn compared to him and Alastair, a mere rookie. However, he had no plans to conquer Hell or wreck havoc. And perhaps that was why he was the only one left. The last one standing.

As the population of demons grew, he disappeared into the shadows. No one knew who he was and that was exactly the way he wanted it. This was the reason why he was alive when so many others had died, why he would continue to survive long after Crowley and Alastair.

Thus, he found himself working under Famine. Elijah strode down the corridor of the dingy motel. He was on his way to collect a ripe soul. It was one that had an addiction to red meat, as a gleeful horseman saw it fit to inform him. He stopped in front of Room 59.

He broke down the door with a forceful shove. Two pairs of striking blue eyes snapped to him and he was considerably taken aback. Elijah was here to claim a soul from a corpse. Instead, there were two kids in front of him, both very obviously alive. He quickly noticed one of them was gorging himself on a burger. That must have been the one.

The demon smirked. Now, this was interesting. For Famine to send him on a collection, the child must possess a human soul. Clearly, the boy was not human. Elijah couldn't quite determine what the target was. The fact that he was sent here ruled out any possibility of the child being a future resident of Purgatory. In that case, his money would be on angels.

If the rumors were true, angels could be affected by Famine's presence. It was their vessels, he heard, that made them crave. However, angels don't have human souls.

"Well, this certainly wasn't what I was expecting," he remarked. In less than half a second, the children pulled out their weapons, shifting into a more defensive position. The blond one had a knife, while the other, a gun. Elijah's sharp glaze zoomed in on the engravings etched onto the red haired one's weapon. There were similar ones on the knife. His eyes widened as he recognized the carvings. Enochian.

Human souls. Angel marks.

"Nephilim."

Elijah couldn't believe it. They certainly didn't look the part.

Once upon a time, when demons had just crawled out from the fiery pits, they were unaware of the existence of other supernatural beings. Eventually, they had acquainted themselves with the other dark creatures. Skinwalkers. Wendigos. Incubi. There were so many different species of monsters.

Nephilim, Elijah remembered, were giants. They were as big as mountains; trampling everything that stood in their way. The offspring of fallen angels and daughters of men were extremely intelligent, wicked, and prideful. Some even considered them to be demons with corporeal bodies.

The children before him were nothing like them. Even so, he could feel their aura; commanding, holy, and so very familiar to what the angels called grace. They were anomalies. Had he been any other demon, they would have slipped past the system. Who would suspect these kids to be Nephilim? But no, he was a millennia old demon, one that had once seen the Nephilim at their prime. He supposed it was fate.

Elijah knew Lucifer would want them dead.

However, he was not dumb enough to take them on. Those carvings on their weapons, he realized, were ones used to make the Colt. Elijah knew he had to retreat. What he needed to do was to report back to Famine. And that he shall.

Elijah grinned slyly at the two abominations, eyes flashing black as he disappeared.

* * *

Alex shot out of the bed, reaching for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans. What the hell? How did a demon find out where they were? He aimed his weapon at the smirking demon, panicking. Did they already blow their cover? He noticed the suitcase the demon was carrying and realized this was one of Famine's demons. Did Famine, the horseman, send him?

He exchanged a quick glance with Al, who appeared equally anxious. Alex cocked an eyebrow, asking a silent question. His twin nodded in agreement. The red haired teen tightened his grip on his gun.

They couldn't let this demon leave alive.

The older sibling directed his attention back to the demon. The damn thing was just staring at them. What exactly was this guy looking at? The demon blinked, and both of them were greatly unnerved by the disbelief they could see on his face.

"Nephilim," the demon breathed in barely concealed incredulity. The twins froze. How did he-

A predatory look contorted the demon's face as he grinned. Al lunged at him without hesitation, but it was too late. The knife didn't reach its target.

The demon was already gone.

"Son of a bitch!" Alex cursed.

* * *

They weren't exactly Nephilim. Their Father didn't fall and their Dad wasn't female. To be honest, nobody knew what they were. They weren't the size of the Empire State Building nor were they keen on causing chaos. The superior intelligence theory might be right, but that was only evident in one of them. So really, the term 'Nephilim' wasn't what most would use to label them.

That wasn't the point. The point was that there was a demon out there with a rough idea of their heritage. Sure, they were nowhere as powerful as an Antichrist, but the devil didn't know that. In other words, they either smite that demon or get screwed over by an entire army of them.

"Come on, we gotta follow him!" Al prompted urgently, vanishing instantly. Alex followed soon after.

Now, here was a fact. They weren't as strong as angels and they didn't have reality warping powers like half-demons. What they did have was tracking skills on par with hell hounds. There was no hiding from the Winchester twins. Hex bags and Enochian sigils didn't work on them and they were as fast as any Seraphim in existence. Not to mention, they could feel the presence of any demon within a ten mile radius.

"A diner," Al commented when they materialized. "Seems like the ideal place for Famine, huh?"

Alex snorted. Figured the first thing the demon would do was run to Daddy.

The car park was silent. Perspiration began dripping down the younger twin's neck. With the horseman in such close proximity, the teen's craving had become unbearable. Only the fear of the devil himself managed to control the addiction a little; just barely enough for Al to get his priorities straight.

"You okay?" Alex asked, concerned. The older twin was somewhat glad his craving wasn't one he could currently satisfy.

"I'm fine," Al assured unconvincingly. His brother shot him a look. "Well, I'm as fine as I can be!"

"Maybe I should do this alone," Alex suggested.

"No!" Al violently protested, glancing at the diner. "It's too dangerous. I can sense at least six demons in there. You need my help!" The younger sibling insisted. At Alex's reluctant expression, the blond added, "Look, if I succumb to Famine's powers, I give you full permission to knock me out and drag me out of there, alright?"

Alex considered it. They had never faced that many demons without their parents or uncles' help. The truth was that they would probably not make it out alive. How the hell were they going to take out a horseman? Even if the two of them went in together, their chances of survival would still be little to none. The odds would be higher compared to if he went alone, yeah, but only slightly. "Al, Dad and Father are going to start looking for us soon. I don't want them to come here and find us both dead. Right now, you're a liability-"

"That's a lie and you know it!" Al snapped. "I know you want to protect me, but can't you see? This is bigger than us! What if they realize you know more than you should? Lucifer's not going to kill you. He's going to stick you in a dark room, skin you alive, dig out your organs and cut until there's nothing left!" the blond teenager replied, agitated. The adolescent inhaled deeply before continuing. "How well can you withstand torture, Alex? How long would it take to break you and make you talk? Not as long as Dad, I imagine."

The older twin could feel blood drain out of his face. Al was right, of course. "Damn it!" Alex gritted his teeth. "Fine! Let's just go, we're wasting time!" Making his way to the front door, the teen turned back and said, "You be careful, you hear me?"

His younger sibling nodded indulgently. Alex sighed.

With that, the two brothers burst into the diner.

* * *

He could do this.

Sam held out a fist to help himself focus, eyes closing in concentration. He tried not to think about how disappointed Dean would be. Sam didn't have a choice, not when his brother was in danger. Dean could be angry if he wanted to, his safety was more important to Sam.

Just a little more.

He pushed harder, not remotely surprised when he felt blood trickling from his nose. Almost there.

"Oh shit, wait, stop!" Sam could barely register the unfamiliar voice as he forced the demons out of Famine, sending them back to Hell. The horseman slumped in his wheelchair, unconscious. Sam took deep, greedy gulps of oxygen, trying to regulate his heartbeat. He did it. They were going to be okay. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to be happy about that, not when he knew he would be at the receiving end of Dean's accusing glare.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel stand up, abandoning the red meat. Good, Famine's powers had been lifted. Guilt and frustration hit him as he realized he was still craving demon blood. He really was a freak, wasn't he? Hesitantly, he looked at Dean, expecting to see disgust and fear, but his brother wasn't even looking at him. Dean's glaze was directed at something or someone behind Sam.

He turned.

There were two teenagers standing at the entrance to the diner; twins by the looks of it. Sam held out a hand threateningly, Dean retrieved his gun, and Castiel just stared. The kids took two steps back, wide eyed and fidgety. The red haired one raised his hands to surrender.

"Uh, we come in peace?" the teen said nervously.

* * *

Cassie: So... What do you guys think? I know this chapter's a little boring. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted or favorited this story! Seriously, you readers are amazing.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

* * *

They really should have seen this coming. Al, for the life of him, couldn't figure out how they managed to overlook a detail as important as this one. What they had attempted had seemed like a good idea at the time. Okay, maybe not exactly good, but it was the only thing they could do given the situation.

The plan had been simple enough. Go in, smite the demon and get out. Sure, things were a little more complicated due to the presence of five other demons and a horseman, but hey, it wouldn't be the first time they've done something with the odds stacked against them.

Al blamed it on temporary amnesia, because somehow, in the midst of their plotting, they had forgotten this one thing; their parents and uncle were also trying to gank the horseman their demon was reporting to. And due to Murphy's law, or perhaps something even more potent such as the Winchester luck, it was inevitable that they would cross paths.

That was how they ended up here.

"Oh shit, wait, stop!" Alex yelled from beside him. Uncle Sammy was currently exorcising the demons inside Famine, including the one they had come to smite. The tall man didn't hear Alex, or if he did, he didn't feel inclined to obey. Al, on the other hand, watched in morbid fascination as the horseman convulsed in his wheelchair, completely silent as the demons were forcefully expelled from Famine's body.

The younger twin didn't think about how much danger they were in now that the demon carrying the knowledge of their existence had been sent back to Hell. He couldn't. The horseman went slack in his seat, unconscious, or more likely, dead.

Immediately, Al felt eyes drilling into the back of his head. He turned and found himself face to face with the man who raised him. He shifted uncomfortably under the man's glaze. This was so surreal. Never had he been on the receiving end of his Dad's hostility, not even when he was going through the rebellious teenager phase around three years back. It hurt; even though rational thinking told him this wasn't really his Dad, well, at least not yet.

This man was physically younger, but only by a couple of years. Despite that, Al couldn't help but think this man appeared older. His eyes were hard and cold; haunted. There was a new cut above one of his eyebrows and he had a bleeding lip. No, this wasn't his Dad at all; the man standing before him was Dean Winchester, the man revered in Al's history books, the man who battled the apocalypse even when it seemed like all hope was lost.

It wasn't just him either. Father and Uncle Sammy were the exact same way. Al had never seen his Father behave so awkwardly in his entire life. The man Al called Father had gotten used to human customs decades ago. It was like looking at an entirely different person. The man before him looked so lost. He had to be, being the only angel in existence to rebel against heaven while still believing in God.

And Uncle Sammy, Al couldn't remember him ever being unhappy. His Uncle was so content in heaven; he spent his days living with Aunt Jess, visiting old friends, and occasionally, helping the angels run heaven. Al couldn't associate him with the guilt-ridden man in the room who looked like he had the whole world upon his shoulders.

The teenager was so shaken by the whole scenario that he couldn't bring himself to say anything even when he saw his Dad retrieving his gun. Apparently, Alex wasn't quite as useless.

"Uh," Alex started, holding up his hands anxiously, "we come in peace?" By the time his twin finished his sentence, Uncle Sammy had followed Dad's lead and raised a hand towards them. Their Father just remained staring.

Sadly, Al didn't think they believed him.

* * *

This day just got better and better.

Dean tore his eyes away from Sam painfully, trying to pay attention to what was happening now. It didn't work as well as he would have liked. Images of his brother strapped down in Bobby's panic room plagued his mind and he could almost hear Sammy's desperate pleas echoing in his ears. He blinked, frustrated as he scrambled to reorganize his thoughts.

When he got the memories of Sam's previous detox out of his head, he turned on the two strangers at the diner's entrance, anger and exhausted.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, keeping a steady grip on his gun. The kids jumped at his voice.

They looked suspiciously familiar, although Dean wasn't sure how. Seemingly, they were just typical teenagers. Judging by their physique, Dean would say they were a couple of dumbass jocks. However, there was something in the way they carried themselves that told Dean they were more than that. And given the weapons in their hands, he was right.

He saw them exchange a look nervously. If that was an attempt to humanize themselves, Dean wasn't fooled. He knew demons could be Oscar worthy actors. Ruby was a prime example.

"Dude, w-we're just hunters. We were passing by when we noticed something was off," the red headed one replied uneasily. Dean glared at them skeptically. They were too young to be hunters; too young to hunt alone at least. He wasn't convinced that they were fully human. Seeing Dean's expression, the teen dropped his gun on the floor and kicked it a good distance away. The red haired kid elbowed the blond one, causing the other boy to set down his knife. Then, the teenager turned back to Dean, hands still in the air. "See, we're harmless."

Well, Dean wasn't about to take any chances.

"Sam?" he asked, knowing fully that his brother would understand him. Sammy shook his head.

"They aren't demons," Sam confirmed, lowering his hand. With that, both of them then looked to Castiel, although Dean still kept one eye on the brats.

"I don't recognize them." Cas stated before tilting his head. "However, I am certain they are not human. I cannot read their thoughts." The two teens paled. Dean narrowed his eyes. He took a few steps forward, jabbing the blond's shoulder with his gun.

"Back against the wall!" Dean ordered, unfazed when the two kids acquiesced immediately with undisguised fear. He pressed his weapon to the red head's forehead and established eye contact. The teen squirmed under his intense gaze. "I'll only ask you once. What do you want with us?" He questioned coldly.

"Nothing! W-We weren't lying! We really are hunters!" the crimson haired youth protested loudly, sweating bullets. Dean scoffed. The teenager gulped.

"Really? Because to our knowledge, only demons and certain angels are immune to mind reading," Dean refuted, scowling. "You better start talking now, or I'll start getting creative," he threatened darkly. The kid shuddered.

"A-Alright, alright! Look man, we came from a very long line of hunters. The reason why he can't read our minds is because we have wards that specifically keep out nosy angels," the red haired teen answered, averting his eyes. Dean almost laughed.

"You really expect us to believe that? If there were wards like that, why don't more hunters know about them?" he retorted. The kid blinked.

"Most hunters have never met an angel," the teen replied without stuttering for once. "If it weren't for the apocalypse, most hunters wouldn't even believe in them. Hunting's been our family business for a long time, so having a few tricks up our sleeves ain't all that surprising," he explained.

"That is true, Dean," Castiel contributed, moving to stand behind him. "But, that is not the only reason why I believe the two of you are not human. You feel similar to my brothers, but I can also sense that you have a human soul," the angel said to the strangers. The red headed one scratched the back of his neck.

"I-I honestly have no idea what you're talking abo-"

"Enough, Alex," the blond teen injected, speaking for the first time. He seemed a lot more composed than the other kid. Everyone turned to stare at him. "You are right. We are not completely human. The angel cannot read our minds because we were born immune."

"What the fuck, Al?" the red head vociferated. The blond faced him briefly.

"There's no point in hiding now. Besides, that demon is probably reporting to Lucifer as we speak. We need all the help we can get. Furthermore, you can't lie even if your life depended on it," Al whispered so only his twin could hear.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters tensed at the confirmation. "What the hell are you then?" Dean demanded.

The flaxen haired boy hesitated for a moment before replying, "Nephilim. Rest assured, we don't mean any of you harm. My brother wasn't lying, we really are hunters."

"What?" Dean turned to look at Sam. "What's a Nephilim?"

"They are said to be the offspring of fallen angels and human women," Sam stated uncertainly, "they are supposed to be giants the size of mountains. That's just folklore though. I don't know if there's any truth behind it."

"You are not wrong. However, Nephilim have been extinct for thousands of years now. And these two appear nothing like them," Castiel verified, his eyes never leaving the pair of strangers. Al sighed.

"Due to some circumstances, we didn't turn out like the others. I apologize, but I can't say more," the blond teenager replied.

"You don't have much of a choice here, buddy," Dean said coolly, changing his target to the one with blond hair. The blue eyed youth flinched as the cold metal made contact with his temple. "You have till three to tell me who you're working for. One-"

"We're from the future."

* * *

Cassie: I have no idea what I'm doing. When I started this, I had approximately three chapters in mind. Now, I'm just making stuff up as I go along. Sorry to disappoint. Still, thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed this story the last chapter.


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